


Feral

by briaranise



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), M/M, Pre-Relationship, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briaranise/pseuds/briaranise
Summary: Lance is hurt. Keith loses control.





	Feral

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to get this posted before S7 comes out!

Keith wishes they'd never answered the distress beacon.

He takes a step, his boot sinking into the soft mud lining the tunnel. The underground base is solely lit by dimly glowing fungi sprouting haphazardly over the walls and he trips more than once, catching himself on roots and stalks that leave his gloves covered in a thick mucus.

There's an eerie presence filling the air, ominously pressing down on his head and shoulders, and constricting his chest. He chances a deep breath and winces as the acrid air burns his lungs. The tainted air seeps in through a crack in his helmet, the jagged gash blurring his vision.

If he hadn't been wearing his helmet, he would have lost an eye.

A crackle echoes through his helmet. "Keith? Keith, do you copy?"

He tries not to sag in relief at the sound of Lance's voice. "Lance. I'm here," he responds in a low murmur. There's a rumble underfoot and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

"Thank fuck."

He tries not to listen too closely to the sound of Lance's breathing. The connection is patchy at best, interrupted by static and long stretches of silence, but at least he knows that he isn't alone and Lance is okay. He walks, and breathes, and hopes that it is as comforting to Lance as it is to him.

"Where are you?" he asks finally, as if they had even the slightest hope of navigating through the vast network of caves and tunnels. "Can you contact the others?"

"The others got out before the tunnels collapsed. I think it's just us, buddy."

A part of Keith wants to apologise. After all, if he hadn't insisted on pushing further, Lance wouldn't have followed him deeper into the tunnels. Lance would have been able to leave with the others before the entrance had been sealed.

If they die here, it is Keith's fault.

"We need to regroup," he says instead, stopping as he reaches a dead end. The rock face is smooth and damp, with fungi that light up in strange patterns as soon as he touches them. A grinding sounds directly overhead and clods of dirt come tumbling down towards him, disintegrating into small puffs as they collide with his armour.

"I can't believe it, but I actually miss your stupid face right now," Lance says, but his words sound fond rather than provocative. "And your stupid mullet. What—"

The grinding sounds again, vibrations travelling through the dirt and rock all around him and sinking deep into his bones. The comms crackle again and go silent. Keith opens his mouth to call out to Lance, to find out if his teammate is still alive—

The smooth rock in front of him shudders and splits in two.

He barely has time to leap backwards. Long claws rake down the front of his breastplate, leaving deep gouges. The thing that pokes its head through the gaping crack is the stuff of nightmares.

"Fuck," Keith breathes as he scrabbles backwards and takes in the enemy. The creature is completely white and humanoid in only the vaguest of senses. There are no eyes located on its bulbous head – instead there is a mouth that opens unnaturally wide, filled with rows of spiked fangs and a forked tongue that darts towards him, twisting through the air in a sickening motion. Its back is grotesquely curved with rib-like spines covering the pale flesh. Keith draws and activates his Marmoran blade in a single motion as the creature reaches towards him with elongated limbs, 9-inch claws glistening in the faint light.

He backs away slowly, one step at a time, every muscle tensed to fight. There's a split second of hesitation from both Keith and the monster, then it lunges towards him. He barely blocks the left claws in time, and ducks under a swipe from the other limb. Its tongue flicks through the air again, locating his position, and Keith grabs it.

He slices straight through it.

Dark purple blood splatters against his visor. He tries to wipe it away with his gloves as the creature tips its head back and screams, a piercing sound that has Keith sinking to one knee unsteadily. The tunnel is shaking around him, sending dirt and rocks showering down.

Keith glances down at the severed tongue in his hand, casts it aside in disgust and forces himself to his feet.

He runs.

"Lance," he shouts urgently, hoping against all odds that their comms will somehow reconnect. There's no point in silence now; the creature is right behind him, claws clicking over rock and squelching in the mud. He risks a glance back and sees the creature list sideways into the wall.

 _It's following by vibrations only_ , he thinks to himself. _It can't smell me anymore_.

But there's only one path and it leads towards him, so Keith continues sprinting through the tunnels, praying silently that he will run into Lance sooner rather than later.

"Keith!"

He almost trips over at the sudden shout. It's muffled, but nearby.

Lance.

"Keith!"

The tunnel branches suddenly but Keith blindly follows the sound of Lance's voice. The glowing fungi become scarcer as he nears Lance's location, and he wonders if he is headed towards the main chamber of this cave network.

He rounds the corner, blade in hand and struggling to catch his breath, and sees him: gagged and bound with wild hair and even wilder eyes—

"Keith!"

He whirls around, dread and horror freezing his blood as some small part of his mind screams that Lance didn't say that, it was his voice but _he couldn't have said that_ —

There's another one of the creatures right behind him, its jaws gaping into a huge grin. "Keith," it cries again, in a perfect mimicry of Lance's voice. Then its claws are raking upwards, catching Keith's helmet and ripping it from his head. He stumbles back, feeling warmth trickle down his forehead where the beast nicked him.

More creatures pile into the chamber, each with flickering tongues and deadly claws. Keith angles himself in front of Lance and activates his bayard in his left hand. He hopes that two blades will be enough.

He deflects blow after blow with shaking arms, but there's no way to counterattack when he can barely keep up. There's blood in his mouth now, coppery and warm from where it's flowing freely down his face.

 _How can I fix this_ , he thinks desperately as he parries another slash. _How do I get us both out alive?_

Behind him, Lance lets out a muffled shout. Keith turns on instinct and is immediately knocked to the ground. He's pinned down by a set of claws, the tips cutting through the flightsuit material covering the back of his neck. He instinctively struggles, but freezes when the claws draw blood.

Keith turns his head against the dirt to look at Lance. There's someone standing over him, a little furry and a little purple and—

"How wonderful, my children. You brought me some lovely presents indeed," the Galran says, his voice booming in the cavern. The creatures all pause in their movements and direct their attention towards him. “I hadn’t thought that the Paladins of Voltron would actually answer my call.”

His clawed hand brushes over Lance’s hair, smoothing it down almost kindly. Lance jerks away, almost overbalancing on his knees, a muffled protest leaving him. The Galran responds to that by gripping his hair tightly and jerking his head back, exposing his throat.

“And now I have two Paladins at my mercy. I wonder what Lord Zarkon will think of me now.”

“You’re a fucking piece of shit,” Keith seethes, face still pressed against the ground. He feels another set of claws slam down on his back, then white hot pain as they pierce through his flightsuit and straight into his side. He jerks, his fingers scrabbling in the dirt as he bites back a shout and his vision blurs.

He can’t fight. If he moves, the claws could cut right through his organs – or his spine. He can hear Lance’s muffled shouts as he blinks away the spots in his vision, takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to centre himself.

_This is just pain. Ignore it._

“I am Professor Dellinzor,” the Galran corrects him, thumbing absently across Lance’s jaw, “and you, along with my children, are going to gain me an audience with Lord Zarkon. He will regret ever sending me away.”

Keith can feel the claws shift inside of him as he forces himself to look up. Dellinzor walks towards him, delighted. He bends down to pick up first the bayard, then the Marmoran blade.

“Don’t touch those!” Keith hisses, his mind racing as he tries to come up with a plan. He needs anything at all. But he’s not good at coming up with well-thought out plans on the fly. That’s Lance’s forte. He’s only got his instincts, and right now they're screaming  _hurts, stay still, think!_

Dellinzor bends down to grasp Keith’s hair roughly, and that’s when it happens.

The first shot grazes Dellinzor’s shoulder. Had he been standing, it would have been fatal. Keith forces himself to look at Lance, who fires off another five shots with deadly precision and speed. Keith lets out an agonised shout as the claws shift sharply, raking against something inside of him and sending black spots dancing across his vision. He can feel the blood pooling underneath him and soaking into his black flightsuit. But the creature on top of him is dead, and Lance looks beautiful as he steels himself, brows furrowed and mouth set in a thin line, and releases another volley of shots.

The remaining creasures rush at Lance.

With both the creatures and Dellinzor distracted, Keith grabs a hold of the claws embedded in his side and pulls. There’s an awful squelching as they exit his flesh and Keith pants harshly, feeling lightheaded as he casts the limp limb aside and rises to his knees. The monster remains motionless behind him and he thanks the stars for Lance’s accuracy and quick thinking.

“Very clever,” Dellinzor muses, watching impassively as a creature stabs straight through Lance’s shoulder. Lance bites off a cry, his arm falling limply against his side and the blaster clattering to the floor. “I should have expected nothing less from the Paladins of Voltron. How very sneaky, to pretend and bide your time, and murder my children with my own weapon.”

Lance lets out a sob as he slumps, blood pouring from his wound. The creature yanks out its claws and he doubles over, muttering frantically in Spanish. It sounds like a prayer.

“Lance,” Keith shouts, voice strained with pain. All he can see is the blood dribbling down the front of Lance’s armour, painting the blue panels with gory red. _Lance_. He can’t let Lance die.

Dellinzor stomps down on Keith’s side and grinds his heel into the wound. The cavern is filled with agonised screaming, and it takes him a moment to realise that he’s the one screaming, everything is _pain pain pain_ and he can’t breathe and _Lance, he can’t protect Lance_ —

He’s heaving for breath, the tears on his face mixing with blood and leaving a nauseating taste in his mouth. His head feels both light and heavy at the same time. His vision blurs and darkens around the edges but he blinks rapidly, trying to focus on his teammate.

Lance is desperately trying to hold back the raking claws. There’s already blood on his face, and Keith can make out genuine fear in his eyes. They’re not going to make it.

A growl vibrates through Keith’s chest. Dellinzor stamps his foot on response, sending shockwaves of pain through Keith’s body. His muscles spasm as undiluted pain tears through his nerves. His gums prickle and his bones ache.

_They have to make it._

Keith has no weapon, no plan and no backup. But he has his instincts, which have always served him well in the past. With an animalistic howl, he forces his body upwards. He can feel it happening – his senses warping as his body fights the change – and sinks his newly-formed Galran fangs into Dellinzor’s exposed throat.

Blood fills his mouth and he relishes in the taste. He can feel Dellinzor’s pulse stutter in fear and pain before he rips through the carotid arteries and jugular vein. The resulting spray of blood covers his entire front, but he pays it no mind. Keith spits blood at Dellinzor’s shocked face and shoves the now-limp body out of his way.

Lance, his mind screams as he proceeds to tear the other monsters limb from limb. He can hear shouting and explosions but it all seems so far away as he sinks his fangs into whatever he can reach and _tears out its throat, fingers tearing flesh from bones and crushing still-beating hearts_. Everything is a blur of blood and fury and all he can think of is reaching Lance. Protecting Lance. _Saving Lance_.

“Keith, stop!”

Shiro’s voice.

He glances up, teeth still bared in a snarl. Shiro is standing across the cavern, beneath a jagged crack where the other Paladins have obviously blasted their way through. He watches as Shiro’s face cycles through different expressions at the carnage in front of him: shock, horror, revulsion—

“They’re all dead. Please, stop.”

Shiro’s tone is careful and placating. Keith ignores him and scrambles the last few steps to Lance, where he presses his nose into the other boy’s pulse point and lets out a piteous whine. He needs Lance to be okay.

“Hey,” Lance says, his gentle tone at odds with the wild, terrified look in his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.”

“Oh my God,” comes Hunk’s voice as he stumbles up behind Shiro. “Oh my God, Lance, _Keith, what did you do_?”

He’s dimly aware of how he must look. There’s blood from his head wound mixing with the blood still dribbling from his lips, coating his chin and chest in gore. His gloves are covered in bits of stark white skin and flesh. He’s crouching over Lance, their spilled blood mixing together as his eyes flash yellow.

He can hear Pidge swearing and Hunk throwing up, but all he can focus on is how Shiro takes three deliberate steps in his direction. Keith lets out a low growl and the other Paladins freeze in place.

“Hunk, I’m okay, it wasn’t him,” Lance murmur as he gently cups the back of Keith’s head. He sounds like he’s fading fast. “Don’t stress him out.”

“Keith,” Shiro says, chancing another step. “Step away from Lance. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Keith tightens his grip on Lance in response, folding his body over the other boy defensively. When Shiro gets too close, Keith snaps at him, fangs barely missing his fingers.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Shiro warns, “so let go of him.”

It happens so fast. Hunk grabs him from behind, locking his arms behind his back and lifting him clear off the ground. Keith screams, a sound so mournful and pained that Hunk begins apologising over and over, his voice choked.

In a matter of moments, Shiro checks over Lance’s wounds and hoists him to his feet. The Blue Paladin shakes him off and staggers over to Keith. “Stop,” he pleads, cupping Keith’s cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. “Keith. I’m right here. Come back to me.”

Keith’s screams fade into whimpers.

“That’s it,” Lance says encouragingly, “come back to me, babe.”

Keith shudders. He blinks rapidly – flashes of yellow, yellow, yellow, _violet_ – and suddenly sags in Hunk’s arms.

“That’s it,” Lance says again, face going unnervingly blank. That’s all the warning Shiro gets before Lance tips sideways and passes out.


End file.
